Leatherman’s Loop 2013 : Beauty All Around

Beauty before me when I run.
Beauty behind me when I run.
Beauty below me when I run.
Beauty above me when I run.
Beauty beside me when I run.
Beauty within me when I run.

I see Beauty all around.
In beauty may I walk.
In beauty may I see.
In beauty may we all be. - Danny The Lion

I love running for all that it brought me in terms of well-being, freedom and health. But above and beyond all that, I love running for the connections it creates. I spent last weekend basking in the warm friendship of these connections, old and new. And I feel rejuvenated, positive, happy.

I first heard of the Leatherman’s Loop from my friend the White Horse, who said last year we should all run it together as a quick post-UMCB reunion. “These people”, he told me, “you will love. They get it.” The Leatherman’s Loop turned out to be my first run after Micah disappeared, a moment of abysmal sadness, but also my first moment of hope. I was welcomed with open arms by a whole community of complete strangers who instantly turned into family. I met Christy Little Wings, El Copadre Tony, Gerry the Red Zorro and Eamonn who runs like the wind, Kurt, Dean, Mike, Rob and so many others.

Coming back this year was, as were many other experiences over the past year, like completing a circle. I like that the event happens right after the last clouds of winter, as the first blue skies of spring start to light up life again. And as each spring brings new wonders and discoveries, so did this year’s Leatherman’s Loop. I was hosted by race founder Dave Cope in his beautiful house by the lake, with circling red-tailed hawks over the peaceful, quiet forest. I spent fantastic moments, sitting in the van, just talking about life and its struggles, then I was taught to juggle. I saw my friend El Copadre being honored by a whole community who recognizes the values of curiosity, storytelling and the preservation of history. I shared trails with friends, old and new.


We all shivered together, Sunday morning on the starting line. Dean and his gorgeous wild mane, Kurt with his Jesus sandals, Olaf with my shoes, Christy with a cheek-to-cheek grin, Gerry with his game face on, and me with way too many layers of clothing. All was good in the world. Danny stepped up and blessed us with beauty, then someone rang a cowbell. Everyone, including Santa Claus and the orange-haired troll, rampaged down the open field. The Leatherman’s Loop was on again.

Since Kurt was wearing his feathered adventure hat, we ran singing the Indiana Jones theme. Sadly, we lost Gorgeous Dean somewhere before the first river crossing, but we pressed on, mixing running, tree-dodging and mud skating. We splished and we splashed and, of course, it was over way too soon, but not before Kurt found a way to end up barefoot again.

I completed my run passing the mariachis, grinning and laughing, with mud stains up to my ears, high-fiving the other finishers and stuffing my face with bananas and a fantastic new discovery called an “everything bagel”. I can’t see a better way to spend a Sunday morning.

I will be back again at The Leatherman’s Loop, to swim in the mud of course, but mostly to be totally surrounded by the beauty and happiness that warms my heart and fills me with pure joy.

Beauty.

All around.

Race Report - Ultra Marathon Caballo Blanco 2013

I believe in shamanism.

I believe our world is not only the sum of its physical parts; that there exists a spirit world in and around us. We are not solely amazing flesh machines, we are also animated by a spirit, an unseen force and a presence that defines not only ourselves but everything else in the universe.

I spent the last couple years discovering my body. But what started out as a pretty straightforward plan to improve my health and my physical fitness has transformed into an amazing journey of discovering the marvels of my capabilities and the ones of others. Helped and inspired by fellow adventurers from all shapes and types, I’ve experienced moments of indescribable grace at the very edge of complete exhaustion, mere instants from rebirthing with a renewed will and an energy that can only be explained by some unseen source, by something more than what the sum of my body cells can achieve. I embarked on the journey of mind over matter; I entered the spiritual realm of endurance running.

While I was exploring this new path, I also started experiencing the world in a different way. I started connecting with others in a manner that is as hard to understand as it is to describe. Moments of grace at the brink of unbearable fatigue and pain create an invisible, unbreakable bond between those who share them, something akin to instantly becoming soul brothers and sisters. I have the privilege of sharing such bonds with numerous extraordinary people, and they have made me richer than I could ever have imagined.

Last year, one of these bonds was broken. It was a powerful one, too, and its severance hurt me in ways I cannot put into words. I had just spent a little over a month with Micah, I was not even completely back, mentally, from the Canyons when I learned he was gone. It broke my soul.

In the following days, I went to see my Medicine Woman. At least that’s what I call her. The papers on her wall say “osteopath”, “chiropractor” and many other things, but I know who she is. As I entered her little office and started my treatment, she gave me the strangest of looks.

“Parts of your soul are missing.”

I broke down. Unable to speak, I tried to mumble an explanation of what had happened, but she stopped me. She didn’t need it. She treated my body, that day, but she also started treating my spirit. She explained, and demonstrated, that these connections I described not only exist, but last forever. She comforted me in showing complete understanding of what I was going through, and she guided me on a path to realizing that the only thing that matters in life is connection.

This connection, this strange bond that I first observed in my ultra running experiences, is what makes us true humans. And it has become for me an objective, a guide for living the rest of my life.

I traveled down to the Canyons in February, just like I did last year. Only this time, I had to deal with the fact that I would not stumble on my friend, catch up to what our lives had been since we were last together and go for a beautiful long run in the Barrancas.

I am grateful for the long days spent all alone, in silence, between running, sleeping, cooking and reflecting. I was lucky enough to have all the time needed to do these things over and over again until, slowly, they started to make sense once more. Until I could realize that I still had purpose here, that I was still connected, that the pain I had been feeling for a year now was gradually making way for some measure of peace, gratitude and a yearning to keep going forward.

I was not forgetting. I was processing.

When the tribe of Running People started gathering, I was elated to see familiar faces and new ones, but most of all to feel available and eager for new connections; to not be shut, wounded and afraid. I was free, present and open.

Days of running free, laughing, cooking, sharing and connecting led me to race day, between bouts of frantic work and magical moments only the Canyons can bring. And on that unique morning, before first light, I stood there once again, surrounded with love, friendship and community.

I didn’t hit the road alone. I carried with me two very special connections, two unexplainable bonds to share the adventure with. Two souls also in search of meaning. I had the strength, resolve and determination of a Tiger and the reach, depth and expanse of a Tree.

 The magic of the day unfolded and rewarded me with joy, passion and amazing feats of will. My joy was sharing about 6 miles of running with Jovian, a young Raramuri from the Los Alisos region, and seeing my friends Augusto, Donald and Olaf running free in the Canyons. My passion was witnessing Michael, Stephanie and Zac enter the world of ultra running with such elation. The amazing feats were those of exhausted runners keeping on, among which my friend Scott, but mostly Tom who literally broke through shackles of despair and defeat to rise up again and triumph over everything, including himself. What an incredible day to be alive.

Being reunited in the spirit of the Mas Locos, under the lead of Maria and Josue and the watchful eye of my friend the White Horse provided much needed energy, inspiration and hope. But this time around, it provided one more thing, one I had direly needed and sought since that fateful day, almost exactly a year ago.

It provided healing.

Running Trails In Gatineau

Olaf, Augusto, Eric and Flint tackled some pretty slippery, damp and awesome single track last weekend. Foul language ensued.